


The Cretinous Christmas Carol

by Trista_zevkia



Series: Christmas in Smallville [2]
Category: Smallville, Superman/Batman (Comics)
Genre: Identity Porn Without Porn, M/M, Yuletide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 16:48:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/599960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trista_zevkia/pseuds/Trista_zevkia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Last Christmas, Clark insisted that Batman be allowed to join the JL. After this Christmas, he'll expect this Brucie idiot to be a member.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Cretinous Christmas Carol

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to Merry MoronMas! but I don't think it's needed to read both, though Merry MoronMas is funnier.

The party was as magnificent as expected. Wayne’s party planners had gone all out, and covered most of the distance in lights. It was still tasteful, at least until the guests arrived. Most were decked out in Christmas colors, and the women’s dresses seemed to have the same amount of material as a bag of tinsel. Dinah felt overdressed, mainly because her areolas weren’t ornaments on display. She wasn't sure why she’d been invited or, for that matter, why she came. But really, who turned down an invitation to Wayne party?

"Dinah?" Turning at her name, Dinah was further surprised to see Ollie talking to her. "You look wonderful, but I must say I'm kind of surprised to see you here." 

"I'm surprised to be here, Ollie." 

“I wonder who was in charge of the guest list this year? I took a few classes with Brucie at Excelsior but I never got so much as a Christmas card before." 

“Personally,” Impulse happily joined in the conversation, holding an overfull plate. “I’m thrilled to be here; you wouldn't believe the buffet." 

"That's a bit weird." Dinah offered, shooting a look to Oliver. 

"Not that we're not happy to see you, Bart, but how did you get an invite to this party?" 

"You can say it, how did someone who thinks a blue chip is something to eat get invited to the shiniest shindig?" 

"Pretty much." 

"No idea. But I got one and there was free food involved, so here we are." Bart paused to eat few sandwiches off his plate. "Besides, who turns down an invitation to a Wayne party?" 

Dinah nodded, allowing that she had similar thoughts. 

"Hey, Queen Industries, what are you doing here?" This was said in a drunken voice just before its owner clapped an arm around Oliver shoulders. "Who and how are your lovely companions?" 

"Hi, Brucie. Since they were invited to your party I thought you'd know who they are." Oliver managed a polite, though obviously fake, smile. He was not Brucie's biggest fan. 

"The only guest list I worry about is my date." Brucie sounded almost wise as he imparted this nugget of wisdom. “Though I would be more than happy to include this young lady on my date roster." 

“Your date roster?" Dinah asked in a hiss of a voice. 

"Or you can make an appointment with my social secretary. She knows better than I do what my preferences are." 

Dinah looked about ready to scream, but Brucie didn't seem to notice. Fortunately, Oliver and Bart knew that could lead to trouble and subtly cut between Dinah and Brucie. 

“Brucie," Oliver said, before he had a topic in mind to continue that sentence with. 

Brucie came to the rescue with an interruption. "Ollie, how did that vigilante thing work out? What was it, the Green Avocado?" 

Oliver was mostly immune to Brucie’s stupidity, having watched his business rival for some time. He had also taken the liberty of listening to recordings of Brucie’s board meetings, but being called an avocado derailed his thought processes. 

"You know, if you wanted to be a green vigilante, you should have been Aloe Vera." 

Ollie was only sure that he didn’t really want to know. 

Unfortunately, Bart was curious about things. "Why Aloe Vera, Mr. Wayne?" 

"Since he just turned around and told everybody anyway, he should've just come out and said hello I'm Oliver." 

"Aloe Oliver, or ‘ello Ollie." Dinah said, trying to hide her snicker behind her hand. Bart didn’t even try to hide his laugh. 

"That's terrible." Bart managed, once he finished laughing. 

"Did you invite me just to insult me with that awful pun?" 

"I didn't invite you; I thought you came with a date." Brucie’s eyes caught and held something over Oliver shoulder. “Such as that very interesting woman who is not on my date roster." 

They all turned to look, but none recognized the woman walking toward them. Her skintight catsuit alternated between green and black as she walked, the gold accents, shoulder pads, belt, and boots making her look a little bit like a decorated tree. Her flaming red hair give an otherworldly glow to her beauty, but the smile she gave them was not pretty. 

"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Princess Maxima, and I have come here to find my mate." 

"Allow me to apply for the position." Bart said with a winning grin. 

Placing a hand on Brucie’s shoulder allowed Maxima to move him aside so she could pat Bart on the cheek. Her hand then moved down to squeeze his shoulder. 

"A sweet thought, but that won't be necessary." With a pat on the back for Oliver, Maxima looped an arm through Dinah’s and smiled at them all. “I have found my mate but my research shows he spends most of his time with you four, alone or in a group. This means you need a little vacation while my mate and I get to know each other." 

This must have been a signal of some sort, as energy reached through the assembled parties. Frozen in place, the world they saw started to dissolve around them. Even without having felt it before, they guessed it was some sort of transport beam. When they could move again, they were in a large room devoid of decoration. Instead of a star on top of the Christmas tree, through the window they could see stars and a planet that was not Earth. 

Brucie sighed. "I have an after-party in 20 minutes." 

"Don't worry; I didn't invite anyone to that." Maxima smirked. Dropping Dinah’s arm, she moved to stand in front of six heavily armed guards. “Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go get Kal El’s attention." 

Maxima disappeared in another burst of the transport beam, and the guards backed out of the room. Left alone, the members of the JL turned toward each other, while Brucie stared out the window. 

"So Maxima wants Kal’s attention.” Ollie started speaking in a soft voice, perhaps hoping that it would keep Brucie from overhearing. “Kidnapping us is the way to go about getting it, but we need to get out here before she does something crazier." 

"Crazier than kidnapping to get a date?" Dinah asked. 

"I've never had to do that." Brucie offered, still staring at the stars. 

"I have a question." 

Oliver and Dinah turned to look at Bart, both unsure if his question would be worth it. 

"I know why we're here." The little circle motion with his hand wasn't necessary, as Brucie was excluded by his continued fascination with the window. "But why does she think Kal hangs out with Brucie?" 

"Me?” Bruce said, turning from the window. “Why does Kal hang out with a vigilante businessmen and his vigilante friends?" 

"What makes you think we're vigilantes?" Dinah asked, curious about a leap in logic by a man with no logic to start leaping. 

"Green Salad," said with a point in Oliver's direction. “Yellow canary, the only female on the team," said with an unnecessary point at Dinah. “So he's either the alien in an ugly disguise," said while ignoring Bart’s protest, "Swim trunks boy or the one who is always in a hurry, the red blur." 

Oliver turned and coughed into his hand. 

“Just because you know Oliver is the Green Arrow is no reason to assume we’re vigilantes too." Dinah was still curious and only slightly angry at Brucie. 

Shrugging at them, Bruce asked. “What else would I assume?" 

“And why does Maxima think you know Clark?" Bart asked again, realizing that Brucie hadn't answered yet. 

"Clark? I thought we were talking about this Kal person?" 

“How did the planet's stupidest man get me to out Clark’s secret identity?" Bart asked Oliver and Dinah in confusion. 

“So Clark is this Kal, who’s the mate of an alien babe. He must be a vigilante like you, so fish sticks or the Big Blue Blur.” Brucie’s face showed he was in great pain, and his next words showed he’d been thinking. Well, for Brucie standards of thinking anyway. “Clark does interview me a lot, does he think I'm an evil mastermind?" 

Brucie had to wait until the laughter died down. “Did somebody mention escaping? 'cause I think that might be a good idea.” 

“If you have a suggestion Brucie, we'd be happy to hear it.” Ollie said, looking around the large room they were being held in. It was so plain; he figured it was a cargo hold of some sort. 

“Really? Nobody ever wants to hear my opinion.” 

“I can't imagine why.” Bart muttered, and Ollie nudged him with an elbow. 

“Never mind that Bart, check out the room.” 

“Rite O boss.” Bart sped off and was back short time later. “Only exit is the door, and I don’t know how it’s locked but it is.” 

“What about the air vents?” Brucie asked, frowning in concentration. “The movies always have huge air vents.” 

“This isn't the movies, Brucie.” Dinah offered with a sigh. 

“Actually, there is an air vent but it’s screwed shut.” Bart said, dismissing the air vent with a wave of his hand. 

“Wouldn't it be easier to unscrew something, than to figure out how to open a locked door on an alien spacecraft?” 

“Decent question, Brucie.” Ollie had to give credit where it was due. “Let's try it.” 

They moved over to the air vent, studying it in silence. 

"Those screws look tight, I don't know how we'll get them out.” Ollie said. 

“It's only a single line, what they call a fathead screw, I think.” 

“It doesn't matter Brucie, we don't have any tools, flathead or Phillips.” Placating Brucie seemed to have been added to Dinah’s list of duties for the evening. 

“I just thought my keys might fit in there. Kind of an imitation screwdriver, like that MacGyver would use." Pulling a ring of keys out of his pocket and sticking his tongue between his teeth in a moment of focus, Brucie inserted the head of a key in the slot and started turning it. It was slow going, but it gave his audience time to get over their disbelief. Bart pulled a key from his own pocket, and had the other three screws off in a jiffy. 

Once the grate was out of the way, Ollie boosted Bart up so he could wiggle in the waist high vent and move away at a full speed belly crawl. As they waited, Brucie began spinning his keys on his finger. It was slowly grating on Dinah’s nerves, but Bart returned before it got her last nerve. It occurred to Oliver that Brucie was the luckiest man on earth, even if he was too stupid to know it. 

“I found a way we can go, once we get out of this room, but I don't know if Oliver shoulders will fit through the air vents.” Bart offered as his head stuck out of the vent. “This vent isn’t nearly as big as the ones in the movies.” 

“Did you see if you could open this door from the outside?” Brucie asked, dusting off his immaculate sleeve. “This is a new suit.” 

“I could try that.” Bart said, a little sheepishly, before disappearing back into the air vent. 

“Brucie,” Oliver said before the keys can go on another whirl. “You might wanna put your keys in your pocket so they don't get forgotten. It is a long way to Gotham from here.” 

“Good idea.” Brucie agreed, pocketing his keys and promptly beginning to whistle. Tuneless, off-key, loud whistling. 

When the door opened behind them, both Diane and Oliver ran for it. Brucie sauntered over and frowned as he stepped through. 

"Why aren't there guards? Every time I've been kidnapped there have been guards." 

Rolling her eyes at the implied insult Brucie found in a lack of guards, Dinah replied. "Don't look a gift horse in the mouth Brucie." 

"They have horses?" 

“Never mind.” Dinah almost yelled back, not wanting this conversation to go any further. 

“Stay quiet and follow me.” It was more of an excuse to order Brucie to shut up than to get them to follow him, but Ollie happily said it. 

“Why not follow the red menace, as he’s the one who’s been outside this room before?” 

“Fine!” Ollie shouted, and had to take a deep breath before trying again. “Fine, we will follow him, thank you for your suggestion, now shut up, Brucie.” 

“You two are the ones yelling for no reason.” Muttered Brucie, but that seemed to be all he had to say, for about thirty feet. “Where are we going?” 

Ollie stopped, because he had no idea. 

“We’re looking for a way back to Earth.” Dinah offered, and Ollie thought about kissing her. Chloe would understand if she ever met Brucie. 

“Why not just have the scarlet scout…”

“Impulse! My name is Impulse, or Bart or Berry or Wally or really any name you want to call me. I am not color coordinated for your mocking purposes.” 

“Red, green, yellow, add in the blue of Superman’s suit, and you do cover most of the primary color palette.” 

“You may have gotten me to tell you Clark was Kal but I’m not about to tell you he’s Superman too!” Impulse clapped his hands over his mouth at supersonic speeds, but still was treated to the rare sight of Brucie looking at someone as if _they_ were an idiot. 

Brucie’s expression cleared up before Impulse’s did. “Let’s go to the kitchen!” 

“You can’t be hungry?” Dinah asked in surprise. The buffet at the party had been pretty elaborate, no longer then they were there, but Brucie wasn’t the type to skip a meal. And really, who thought about food in a situation like this? 

“I could eat.” Impulse offered in a subdued voice. 

Dinah badly repressed a sigh. 

“No.” Brucie offered in a smug voice, clearly pleased with knowing something the rest of them didn’t. “Whenever you want to learn about a place, the kitchen staff knows all the latest gossip.” 

“And what reality show did you hear that on?” Impulse asked, still embarrassed and annoyed about Brucie getting the better of him. 

“None. My butler told me.” Brucie’s superior tone was covered up by the laughter of his fellow humans. 

“His butler, Jeeves the wise and powerful?” Impulse asked, getting a blank look from Dinah. 

“Jeeves was a valet. Ianto Jones is a butler and tea boy.” Brucie offered, as if the difference mattered when stranded on a spaceship an unknown distance from either valets or butlers. He’d made it down the hall and turned left before the others realized he was walking away. 

Moving after Brucie, Ollie grinned at Impulse. “Please go find the kitchen.” 

Impulse speed away, and return quickly to lead them to the kitchen. They hadn’t been too far from the kitchen, which made sense to Ollie. It would be nice to have the food stored near where it was prepared, such as the large cargo area they had been stored in. Ollie only hoped they were kept there because it was a large, climate controlled space and not because they would be food if Clark wasn’t nice to Maxima. 

The kitchen was a hive of activity, and by staying in a side hallway they could watch without being observed. They stood there, observing for about ten minutes, before Brucie spoke. 

“I can’t hear words this far back. I think we need to mingle, you know, to find out what’s going on.” 

Ollie rubbed at his forehead. “We can’t just walk in there.” 

“Why not?” 

“Alien spaceship means aliens.” 

“They look remarkably human to me. Did you see that princess?” Brucie didn’t add a wolf whistle to this statement, but Dinah thought that was because Brucie couldn’t whistle like that. Or at all, apparently. 

“The kitchen staff look human, and they seem really busy. Maybe they are prepping for a party or something.” 

“Or something?” Dinah asked, incredulous. “I can’t imagine what they could be prepping for, except maybe a forced wedding for our friend, Clark.” 

“Why forced?” 

“If you knew Clark, you’d understand.” 

“I do know Clark; he has a very memorable ass.” 

“Oh, for f…”

Impulse interrupted Dinah before she could finish that rant. 

“Clark is a one woman man, a serial monogamist, in fact, he’s the exact opposite of you. He’s been dating someone for almost a year and won’t even introduce us for a fear of one of his enemies using her against him, but he still asks our advice on presents.” 

“That is really annoying.” Ollie agreed, brain mostly on coming up with a plan. Keeping Impulse talking would keep Brucie from attempting to help any more. 

“Yeah, then, you tell him to get jewelry or flowers or whatever and he shoots down every suggestion without more than a ‘no, that won’t do’ like he’s buying for someone who already has everything.” 

“I’ll hook him up with my personal shopper.” Brucie interrupted, with a hint of annoyance in his voice. “But first, we have to get back to Gotham.” 

“If we looked like the staff we could blend in.” Ollie offered, hoping more of a plan would come to him while they were running the blenders. 

“If Impulse could find a tablecloth, blending in would be easy.” Brucie offered idly, as if breaking into a kitchen filled with beings from another planet was something he did every day. 

Impulse waited for the nod from Ollie before dashing off, but brought the rectangular white cloth back to Brucie. After eyeballing the thing, Brucie started ripping down the middle along the length. He stopped the rip a foot short of the end, and used the un-ripped part to cover up Dinah’s chest. The ripped portions went over her shoulders in a style like the servers were using. Tying the ends of the un-ripped edge around her waist, he stepped back to look at her. 

“Tuck your dress bottom into the tablecloth waistband. Apparently bare knees are in this season, at least among the alien help.” 

“Don’t we need tablecloths too?” Impulse asked, planning to run for three more. 

“No, we don’t need anything to tie up our skirts with.” To Brucie, this was obvious, as conveyed by his tone. While Ollie and Impulse frowned at him, and Dinah tried to hike up her skirt without giving them a free show, Brucie emptied his trouser pockets into his jacket pockets. Without another word, Brucie dropped his trousers and stepped out of them. The legs went over his shoulders, zipper to his chest, showing off his silk boxers. After pulling the waistband of his trousers down to his waist, Brucie secured it with his belt. Ollie and Impulse followed suite, Impulse blushing to match his red underpants when they were revealed. 

“You’d want your bits safely snuggled into briefs if you went the speeds I do.” Impulse muttered, and no-one refuted him. 

“Well, we’re fashionable,” Brucie announced when they were done. “Now it’s time to arrive. Anybody asks why we’re late, say we’re emergency wait staff. If the food is for Clark’s wedding, a serving tray will let you wait your way into the main event.” 

“That’s a…” Ollie paused to throw up in his mouth a little. “That’s a good idea, Brucie.” 

As casually as three vigilantes and an attention hound could, they walked into the kitchen. They were put to tasks without a question being asked, and quickly spread throughout the kitchen. Ollie tried to keep an eye on Brucie, figuring he was the weak link. Brucie seemed to keep up with his work load, while chatting with the people around him. He got a different reaction out of everybody Ollie saw him talk with, but he didn’t get slapped. Either Brucie was behaving or these aliens didn’t use a slap in the same way. 

They worked for about thirty minutes, by Ollie’s watch. Just long enough for Impulse to get bored with working at a human pace and snagging food in a hurry. Ollie hadn’t thought up anything beyond Brucie’s plan, so most of his attention was focused on deriding himself for being such an idiot that he couldn’t outthink the fungus that Brucie used for gray matter. A long tone sounded, causing an instant change in the room. The noise level dropped as people made an effort to be quiet, and all talking stopped. The wait staff was gestured into a line and trays of bowls of green liquid were handed to them. By holding it the same way as the person in front of him, Ollie was able to follow the line into a new room. 

This room was crowded and fancy, though with only a small attempt at decorations. Not that Ollie would judge other being’s culture, but there was a platform draped with a gold tablecloth and random flower vases around the room, so it hardly screamed wedding. The crowd was wearing very different things then the wait staff, so Ollie was glad they hadn’t tried to blend in with them. People were taking the bowls and drinking from them, and from the pleased expressions they wore afterwards, Ollie figured the green stuff was a very strong drink. 

Another tone sounded, and Maxima started to form on the platform. Beside her, another form was taking shape, in primary blue and red. When he was fully formed, Clark looked rather dazed. He didn’t have the red reflection his eyes gave when he was around red meteor rock. If that wasn’t the problem, that left magic, mind control, and maybe alien chemicals. 

“Subjects!” Maxima’s voice cut pointlessly through the quiet crowd. “I give you the only male worthy of being my mate, the last son of Krypton; Kal-El!” 

Instead of applauding, the crowd made hissing yet approving noises. No one felt the need to roll their eyes at Kal’s introduction, even though most of them probably knew what the house shield on his chest stood for. 

“Where are my friends?” Clark asked, without much concern sounding through. 

“I’ll take you to them, right after the ceremony.” Maxima said with a smile. 

“That’s what you said to get me here.” Clark pouted. 

Ollie prayed he’d never see Clark pout again; it was a little distressing in a man with so much power. 

“They’re here, they’re fine, and you can see them right after the ceremony.” Leaning over, Maxima kissed Clark for a long moment. “Or after the honeymoon if you like.” 

“Honeymoon.” Clark replied, in a dreamlike state. 

Another kiss seemed to bring Clark further under her control, and Maxima turned back to the crowd. 

“Does anyone dare challenge me on my right to claim this Kryptonian?” 

Her subjects weren’t moving and a few were barely breathing, so naturally Brucie stepped out from the crowd. 

“I object.” Brucie said in a ridiculously calm voice. He didn’t giggle or mention that he’d always wanted to do that like Ollie half expected. 

“Base human, you know I could crush you where you stand.” Maxima sneered at him, but waved a dismissive hand. “I’ll give you ten words to make your claim.” 

“Only need one.” Brucie shrugged before stepping onto the platform. He’d even managed to put his pants back on, the bastard, so it was Brucie the sex god who sauntered up to Clark. His right hand went to the back of Clark’s neck, his left to Clark’s hip, and both of his lips met Clark’s. 

It didn’t take long for Clark to start kissing back, his hand sliding to Brucie’s ass in what looked to Ollie like a familiar movement. Clark had never mentioned his new love’s name, so it wasn’t beyond the possible that she was a he and he was… No. Clark dating Brucie was beyond the possible. Clark truly loved what was on the inside of people, as so many people claimed to do. It’d take someone with even better microscopic vision than Superman to find something good inside Brucie. Unless Brucie was being controlled by tiny people inside his robot body, and Clark was in love with one of the tiny controllers. 

Though, the way their kiss was forced to end, as Brucie, slowly, reluctantly pulled away from Clark, and Clark leaned forward, chasing Brucie’s lips, suggested to Ollie that Brucie was indeed from that episode of Dr. Who. 

Licking his freed lips, Brucie turned to Maxima. Her face was a red as her hair, and her subjects were slowly backing towards the exits. Oblivious to this creeping fear, Brucie grinned at Maxima and gave his one word objection to the marriage. 

“Mine.” 

With an unattractive shriek of rage Maxima dived for Brucie, but Clark was between them. Maxima packed a pretty good punch, making Clark’s head snap back without hurting her hand, but Clark bounced back up. An arm around her waist yanked her away from Brucie, and she turned her rage on Clark. When he caught her hand in his fist, she seemed to think about her actions and settle for talking it out. 

“Kal-El, no human can equal you.” 

“Maxima, I’ve met better humans than I’ll ever be, so I’m not going to marry based on genetic compatibility.” 

“I can give you children, as no human could.” 

“I won’t bring children into a house without love. You don’t know me, and you certainly don’t love me; that’s why we’ll never work.” 

“I know you, Kal. Ask any of my subjects and they’ll tell you everything you need to know about me.” 

“That you’re shallow, self-centered, and power-mad?” Brucie asked, calm and reasonable. 

Maxima started to turn but was stopped by Clark’s arm around her. She had to settle for yelling over her shoulder. “My people love me!” 

“That’s why they back away and try to become invisible when you get mad. That’s why they do the minimum required for you. Did you see the decorations for your wedding? A wedding to a groom that you researched, and still had to drug and threaten to get this close to the alter. Believe me, I know all about shallow, and it is with some authority that I that I call you about as deep as an oily sheen on a pothole.” 

“Enough, Bruce.” Clark spoke, and he sounded like himself. 

Ollie was relieved to hear Clark under all that, but distressed to find Clark calling Brucie by his real name. Somehow, that was even more familiar than the diminutive ‘Brucie’ that everyone else used. 

“Maxima, you’re a beautiful woman but you have responsibilities. If Bruce says you’re not fulfilling your obligations to your people, I’m going to agree with him. It is better to be served out of respect than fear, and fear is all I see in this room. If you want to come to Earth and get to know me, or learn about leadership, I will welcome you. Otherwise, I think it is time you sent me and my friends’ home.” 

Handing off his tray, Ollie moved toward the stage, hoping it would be that easy. Maxima was holding her hands over her eyes, sniffing, so she must have admitted to her defeat. Clark moved his arm from her waist to pat her shoulder, and she spun away. Her foot arched toward Brucie’s head but he dropped and moved forward at the same time, digging an elbow into the back of her knee. As Maxima dropped, Brucie stood, fighter’s pose disappearing so he could brush at his sleeves. 

Clark looked down at Maxima, who was struggling to understand why she was on the floor. “Are you done?” 

She hesitated, but called out to an unseen worker. “Send them home.” 

Before the beam scrambled his vision, Ollie saw Bruce grab onto Clark’s arm and heard Maxima yell her outrage. Once the trip was over, it didn’t take Ollie long to see that they were in Clark’s apartment. 

“What just happened?” Impulse asked slowly. Ollie knew Impulse’s question covered more than their escape. 

“Bruce?” Clark asked as that man released his arm. 

“Maxima slapped transponders on us at my party, but she held onto you during the transport. She didn’t expect you to come back, so you didn’t need a return ticket. When she ordered us sent home, grabbing you brought you with us, which she didn’t count on me figuring out.” 

“That’s my sneaky genius.” Clark said, smile on his lips and in his voice. 

“Genius?” Ollie squeaked out, which, oddly enough, caused Clark to frown at Brucie. 

“You didn’t tell them?” 

“Tell them what?” Brucie asked, wide eyed and confused. 

“You escaped from an alien spaceship without breaking character? That’s pretty impressive, even for you.” A rueful shake of his head, and Clark turned to his teammates. “I’ve been trying to tell you something for a while now, but parts of it have made it difficult.” 

“From the display you put on for Maxima, I figured out you were dating Brucie.” Dinah said. “Believe me, Clark, there are hotter guys out there for you.” 

“She’s just jealous because she’s not on my dating roster.” Brucie sneered from beside Clark. 

“Dinah, he has a date roster because it keeps them from wondering why he’s not sleeping with them.” 

“What?” 

“It’s complicated, but for a good reason.” 

“We know you don’t want your enemies going after your,” Impulse stumbled, trying to find the right word. “Your person, which is why you’ve not announced you’re dating.” 

Reaching up to brush a nervous hand through his hair, Clark glanced at Brucie. 

“Relax Clark.” Brucie commanded before his smile banished the harshness from his next words. “It’s not an important secret or anything, so it doesn’t matter if they can’t figure it out.” 

“No.” Ollie said in response. The disbelief, horror and embarrassment made his voice sound like a stranger’s. “Aloe Vera, I should have known from the Aloe Vera.” 

Bruce nodded, as if it should have been obvious from that pun alone. 

“Ollie?” Dinah was concerned about him, and not thinking freaky thoughts about Bruce. 

“Who did I get the most grief from for the Vigilante Registration Act? Who mocks our costumes and insults us with every other word out of his mouth?” 

“No!” Impulse shrieked, his face of horror matching Dinah’s. “Are you saying Bruce Wayne is Batman? Do you know how many times I thought about killing him tonight?” 

“More than you typically think about anything, so I’d say twice.” Bruce said. “Clark, your girlfriend put us down where she left.” 

“She followed me to the apartment, rang the doorbell and, and.” 

“Kissed her way in?” Bruce finished for a floundering Clark. “I still believe in your virtue, I was just wondering about a ride home.” 

“Right.” Clearing his blush a little, Clark turned back to his shocked teammates. “Let yourselves out, okay?” 

Hands around each other’s waists, Clark and Bruce were gone in a blur. Slowly, and without a word between them, Ollie, Dinah, and Impulse left Clark’s apartment and went their separate ways. Clark didn’t return home until just after dawn, a happy grin on his expressive face. Clearly, even with the kidnapping and attempted marriage, he’d managed to have a merry Christmas. 

sB _Sb_ Bs


End file.
